


More Sweet than Bitter

by Hyperspacial



Category: Love Island (Video Game)
Genre: Brief mention of sexual content but nothing graphic, F/F, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:26:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29024181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyperspacial/pseuds/Hyperspacial
Summary: After Love Island S2 has ended, the canon relationships dissolve. Everyone's fine with it though, totally, 100%.I just wanted to write some content for Hopeisol because I think they're an amazing ship.
Relationships: Bobby McKenzie/Noah, Marisol/Hope
Kudos: 2





	More Sweet than Bitter

When she walked into the kitchen, rummaging through her purse on the counter, Noah couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows. He exhaled out his teeth, whistling slightly. Hope looked up, a cheeky grin spreading across her face as she stepped back, forgetting the quest to find her keys.

She gestured down at herself, posing with her hips and flipping newly installed box braids over her shoulder, “How do I look?”

“Stunning.” He said without thinking. And it was true. The closest he’d seen to her going this all out was at the villa prom, but even that was a shadow of the visage standing in front of him now. The new hair style that she’d spent the better part of the day in the salon getting struck a balance between startlingly different but radiant, her expertly applied makeup sharpened her jaw and eyes flawlessly, the rich jewel tones of her body con dress made her skin glow in the low light of the apartment. But more than the look, there was a lightness in her eyes and smile. The tension that normally stiffened her shoulders had vanished, and she appeared more relaxed than he’d ever seen her. 

She threw her head back with a laugh at his comment, “do you think so?”. She moved in between several poses, turning to fully show off the look and gracefully moving her arms. He couldn’t help but smile, watching her playfully lean and posture. Before he said anything else, her focus snapped to Noah, sprawled out on the couch. She walked over slowly, lips pursed in silent thought.

Hope hesitated before quietly, tentatively offering “And you look…”

Sensing her judgement he sat up, brushing the wrinkles of his dress pants away and straightening his tie. He offered her a beleaguered smile, “It’s not that bad, is it?”

“It’s fine, you look great.” She bent slightly and loosened the knot of her tie, pulling it into the proper shape then tightening it again. “I just… Do you own more than one suit?”

“What do you mean?! This is a new shirt, and tie! I picked it out specifically for this-”

“There’s no way that’s new.”

“It is!”

“If it’s new, then you have at least two of the exact same. Noah, how many navy button downs do you own?”

He blushed, looking down at himself. She offered him a reassuring pat on the shoulder before turning back to her purse. As she walked away, she quipped over her shoulder, “at least you’re not wearing a vest.”

“I look good in a vest!” He called back.

“Who looks good in a vest?” Marisol walked out of the bedroom, holding the keys that Hope was still rummaging around for. Hope spun around and her face lit up. 

“Noah, allegedly.”

Marisol smiled and pressed the keys into Hope’s palm, leaning in and kissing her cheek lightly. “Aw. Are you teasing him?” Then she raised her voice so Noah could hear without looking away from Hope, “I think you look nice in vests.”

Noah’s response was lost in the fumbling of their lips, fingers seeking each other out to interlace. When she pulled away, Hope murmured, “you look beautiful.” Marisol offered her a coquettish smile before releasing her hands, “I know.” Hope’s jaw dropped and she swatted at her girlfriend, “I know” she mimicked. 

“I do know! It took an hour and a half to look this good, babes,” Marisol retorted. 

“Speaking of which,” Hope turned back towards the living room, “have you heard anything from him?”

“Radio silence.” Noah called back. 

Marisol frowned, “I just checked the flight tracker, it said he’s still on time.”

“I knew I should’ve scheduled the reservation for later.”

Marisol slid a comforting hand around Hope’s waist, rubbing her skin gently with her thumb, “don’t go into damage control yet. We don’t know for sure either way.” Hope leaned into her hand, but didn’t say anything. After a bit, Marisol turned back to Noah, sensing she needed to take control.

“Well the plane’s still landing at 6:00, so we might as well assume everything’s fine. I’m sure you’ll get a text during the drive. Let’s just get going.”

Noah nodded silently, a look in his eyes that meant he wasn’t sharing his concerns. But he still stood up, grabbing his coat off the back of the sofa. Hope smiled tightly and grabbed her purse.

“We’re gonna have a great time. Come on.” Marisol kissed Hope lightly again, then walked over to Noah. She pulled at his tie, trying to get the knot to lay flatter than it was. Noah swallowed a laugh and glanced conspiratorially over at Hope, who rolled her eyes through a smile. 

The drive to the airport was quiet. Noah sat in the backseat, scrolling through his phone, and the ladies held hands up front as Hope drove. Periodically, Noah would share a news story or joke from his timeline, and they would all collectively chuckle at it. The silence that had previously been terse and anxious morphed into a comfortable, content silence. 

It took another 45 minutes for them to park, go through security, and find the right gate. Noah had gotten progressively quieter, lips turned slightly downwards as they waited outside of the gate. Hope gently held his forearm, “it’ll be fine, babes.”

Noah nodded, not speaking the fact that they were all acutely aware of. It’d been five months since they’d last seen each other, the longest stretch of time they’d gone since they started dating. While they both agreed long-distance would be doable while he looked for a new job, the separation was wearing on them. 

As the door opened and people started meandering through, the coil in Noah’s throat rose higher. Both Marisol and Hope gently patted and held him, sensing his anxiety. He almost brushed them off, feeling like a child, but instead he remained frozen in place, staring at the doorway.

Like it was nothing, suddenly he appeared. Frumpled shirt halfway unbuttoned, eschew, massive headphones perched around the back of his head, smile brighter than the pastel orange of his slacks. He immediately locked eyes on Noah and squeezed past the woman in front of him, running to them. Without thinking, Bobby launched himself at Noah, wrapping his arms around Noah’s neck and pulling his legs up around him as well. Noah lurched back but caught him intuitively, pulling him up into a long kiss. He had to let Bobby down earlier than he’d normally- the backpack strapped to the shorter man weighed nearly as much as Bobby did. 

Bobby grinned up at him, “hey.” Noah couldn’t help himself from smiling, giddiness making his cheeks flush and eyes squint. “You were supposed to text me when you landed.”

Easing back onto his own feet, Bobby flushed, “yeah, sorry. They didn’t have ports- my phone’s completely dead.”

Noah nodded gently, “but you’re here.”

Marisol cleared her throat, and the couple glanced over at her. “Bobby, what are you wearing?”

“What do you mean, I’m-”

Hope’s face fell and Marisol cut in before she had a chance to react, “Hope made a reservation for dinner at 7. You were supposed to wear your suit on the plane… Is it in your backpack?” She disdainfully glanced at it, not relishing the wrinkles being crammed in a pack would cause.

Bobby’s face fell too, “Shit- I totally forgot-”

Hope started to match Marisol’s agitation, but instead of frustration, tears began welling in the back of her throat. “It has a dress code, Bobby-”

“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” Noah tried to sooth them, “we’ll just swing back to your place. I have an extra shirt, and I’m sure Bobby has some more understated pants-” Bobby visible cringed, shooting a look at Noah. 

Marisol nodded, using Hope’s distress to launch from anger into problem solving mode. “If we leave now we’ll have time to run back, it’s fine. Let’s do that, come on.” She gently pulled Hope into moving. 

Bobby rested his head on Noah’s shoulder as they drove back, playing with his hands. They giggled between themselves, and Hope tried desperately to swallow her irritation and just be happy for them. It was good to see Bobby. 

Noah always seemed to be more comfortable around him too, chatting much more and openly laughing. That was the thing that convinced her Bobby and Noah were a good couple, or at least a better couple than she and Noah ever would be. When she was with Noah, he was just as sweet and considerate as ever, but it always felt like she had to guess what he wanted. Like there was some barrier, like he was speaking a language a little too fluently for her to understand. There was no need for it either, she tried desperately to communicate with him. At times, it’d felt like he willingly stonewalled her instead of just saying what he wanted, just to be difficult. Just to be frustrating. Therapy had made Hope realize that she’d done the same, in part, focusing on little conflicts instead of addressing her underlying insecurities about the relationship. 

But it still hurt some, to see how vibrant Noah became when Bobby whispered in his ear. Not that she wanted him still. But Hope had a hard time letting go, taking the L. Noah had been something she wanted so deeply, and couldn’t make work no matter how hard she tried. Maybe that was the problem, Noah’s love was a thing she wanted. With Marisol, it wasn’t like that. 

Hope didn’t want, didn’t demand, Marisol’s love more than she wanted the dumb memes sent to her phone sporadically throughout the day. Than she wanted the slow and soft mornings waking up to the smell of coffee and her tender hands. More than she wanted to wrap herself in Marisol’s affection and never let go. 

A relationship with Marisol was work, true, but it felt like Marisol wanted to work for it in a way Noah was never willing to. And that remained a slight bitterness in Hope’s friendship with Noah. No matter how much they’d put the show behind them, Hope couldn’t forget how in love she’d been with him. How angry she’d been. The show’s reruns made her cringe, but also caused a dull ache in her chest. Reconnecting with Marisol had dulled that ache to nearly nothing, but seeing Bobby and Noah carrying on as if Noah was never hers caused it to flare up again. 

Glancing at Marisol from the road dissolved that twinge of resentment into shame. Here she was, angry that her friend had found romance in the exact same way she had, when the love of her life was quietly humming along to the radio next to her. It’s not as if Noah realizing his crush on Bobby after the show was any more disloyal than her and Marisol’s friendship growing into more with time. As much as she tried to rationalize it away, there was still a hint of frustration. Marisol quelled it but sliding a hand into Hope’s lap and gently squeezing her thigh, but Hope had to force herself to stop glancing in the rearview mirror anyways. 

When they got to the apartment, Noah pulled Bobby into the guest bedroom to some side eye from Marisol. Hope sat tersely at the kitchen counter, and Marisol slid behind her, gently rubbing her shoulders.

“Don’t let it ruin your whole night babes, we’ll still make the reservation.”

Hope huffed, recognizing it was more than that but taking the out provided, “I spent so much time planning it all out. I made the reservation two months ago-”

Marisol kissed her shoulder, then her neck, whispering, “I know. We all appreciate how much time and effort you put into planning everything.” 

“I just want this to be a good weekend. They haven’t see each other in forever and-”

“And they’re already really happy with each other. You can’t make yourself responsible for their relationship success, darling.”

“I’m not-” she snapped, letting out a breath when Marisol raised an eyebrow condescendingly. Without conceding, Hope sighly loudly and nodded. 

The sat like that for awhile, Marisol gently running her nails across Hope’s back and Hope vacantly staring out the kitchen window. After a considerable bit, Marisol went to the bedroom door, intending to knock. She raced back with a smug grin, and blurted out in a hushed voice, “they’re shagging!”

“What?!”

“Absolutely. They are 100% going at it-”

“Are you kidding me.” Hope pushed up away from the table, spinning on her heels. Marisol caught her arm and pulled her back.

“Oh babe, come on. Don’t interrupt-”

“Our reservation started five minutes ago and you want me to-”

“They haven’t seen each other in awhile-”

“They literally just had to wait four more hours!”

“As if you haven’t been late to a meeting because we were getting a little indecent.”

“That’s not remotely the same thing,” Hope glowered at her girlfriend, and Marisol just laughed, pulling her into a tight hug and kissing her forehead. 

Hope huffed again, and stomped over to the living room, dropping into the loveseat. “Fine. I won’t interrupt. I won’t urge anyone to hurry or worry about a schedule or plan anything. We’ll see how much fun everyone has when everyone just says ‘it’ll work out’ and never puts in any effort to make it work out.”

Marisol watched her storm away, then waited until she was finished. Against her better judgement, she offered, “I said I appreciated your effort.” Which earned her a sour glare. She shrugged, then turned and disappeared into the main bedroom. Hope turned on the tv and attempted to care about the cooking competition that came on. After twenty more minutes, she called in and cancelled the reservation.

Nearly an hour later, the guest bedroom door pushed open. A flushed Noah stepped out, his clothes obviously straightened but the knot of his tie sloppily done again, followed by Bobby. Bobby had put on one of Noah’s shirt, apparent from the looseness and bunching of a shirt that was far too big for him and the signature navy pattern that only Noah and newly graduated business majors would pick out. The boys had so intelligently paired the shirt Bobby was currently swimming in with a pair of khakis. 

Hope turned, most of her irritation haven softened with some alone time. She barked a laugh, partially in genuine humor and partially in disbelief. “You’re going to wear that to a five star restaurant?”

Bobby blushed and Noah looked down at him. “I thought we managed to cobble a look together.”

“No tie?”

“I only brought one.” Noah raised a hand to start pulling his own off, before Hope shook her head, “It doesn’t matter. They only hold reservations for a half hour after they’re booked for.”

“I’m sorry, Hope-”

“As you should be.” Marisol walked out of the hall, she strode past Bobby and Noah, sparing a withering glance at Bobby and snorting her amusement. Without saying anything else, she opened the door and disappeared into the apartment hallway. Hope watched her go in confusion, then turned back to the boys.

“It’s fine.” Her voice softened. It was fine, really. At the end of the day, they were all together, and happy. That should be enough.

“It’s not my fault I’m so incredibly irresistible-” Bobby quipped, and Noah looked away while Hope grimaced, “gross.”

“Bobby, don’t-”

“No it’s not even true,” Hope cut in, grinning, “you look like a 9 year old trying on dad’s shirt for the first time, and you want to brag about being irresistible?” 

“I make it work, lass.” Bobby pulled the back of the shirt tight, trying to give himself an hourglass figure, and posed. Hope stuck her tongue out, and he winked in return. 

The door pushed open again and Marisol shoved her way through, arms full of plastic bags. Hope shook her head in confusion before rushing over to help carry things. 

“When did you-”

“I know Bobby doesn’t mind, but Noah do you like pho? It’s a trick question, I already ordered it. But still.”

Noah smiled, “yeah, I’ll eat some pho-”

“Fantastic, to the terrace!”

Hope trailed behind Marisol as she led through the open screen door onto their small patio. Setting the bag of takeout down on the coffee table, she couldn’t smother her excitement.

“Babes, when did you do all this?”

“Just now.”

Marisol had toted blankets and pillows from their bedroom out to the patio furniture, and carried their TV out as well. Four three wick candles were sat on the ground, waving in the breeze, and Marisol had strung multi colored christmas lights they had in storage along the railing. 

“I didn’t hear you,” Hope said, eyes twinkling as Marisol leaned in and kissed her temple. 

“Yeah, and it was a pain to try to carry that thing down the stairs and out the door silently. Thank god for your lack of awareness.”

“Sod off,” Hope whispered, wrapping her arms around Marisol’s neck and kissing her deeply. 

After the food was opened and everyone got settled, some movie was turned on. Hope couldn’t remember what they’d played for the life of her. But she did remember one specific moment. One warm, contented moment. Wrapped in Marisol’s arms, nestled into her side. Hope had glanced over at the boys, who’d pushed two patio chairs together and were spooning, Noah’s legs hanging off the chairs at the knee. The air rustled across her face and the sounds of the city far below harmonized with the movie audio. Hope could’ve gotten lost in Marisol’s breathing, in the comfort and safety of her arms. But she made a salient mental note not to lose that moment.


End file.
